


happiness

by Fireborn



Category: Kingdom Hearts (Video Games)
Genre: Boys Kissing, Established Relationship, Fluff, Introspection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:07:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29982606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fireborn/pseuds/Fireborn
Summary: Every day, Riku works on his mental list of favourite things about Sora. It's a lengthy list by now, and he's long given up on trying to rank the items on it. There's so many things about Sora that are amazing and unique, and Riku loves every single one of them equally.(or: Riku Kingdom Hearts is gay and in love.)
Relationships: Riku/Sora (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 69





	happiness

**Author's Note:**

> I was driving in my car today, thinking about how much Riku loves Sora, and I got so inspired to write this that I _had_ to after I arrived at my destination. This was meant to be a short drabble, but it's gotten too long for a Twitter post now, so I decided to post it here :)
> 
> Partly inspired by the song "Like No One Does" by Jake Scott.

Every day, Riku works on his mental list of favourite things about Sora. It’s a lengthy list by now, and he’s long given up on trying to rank the items on it. There’s so many things about Sora that are amazing and unique, and Riku loves every single one of them equally.

How Sora is slow to wake, but goes from 0 to 100 in the space of seconds once he eventually gets out of bed. How he likes lattes, but only with at least four spoons of sugar. How his tongue pokes between his teeth when he’s trying to beat his or Riku’s high scores on his gummiphone. How he gets whiny and clingy when he’s tired, and how he likes to be held tightly when they kiss. How brilliantly and easily he casts Grand Magic spells during battle, even when they leave him drained and a little cranky when he overdoes it (and he often overdoes it).

Sometimes when they’re together on Riku’s bed in their shared room in the Tower, Riku will pretend to be reading his book, while actually he’s just looking at Sora, adding items to the mental list.

Like now.

Sora, dressed in thin flannel pyjama pants and Riku’s oldest hoodie—way too big on Sora, of course—is on his back on the bed. He’s got his gummiphone in his hand, his legs slung across Riku’s lap, cursing as he twists his body to the side and pouts at the screen. Sora’s face is close enough for Riku to reach out and touch, and Riku _craves_ to touch; he wants to trace the curves of that pout with his fingers until Sora squirms and the pout turns into a smile just for him.

He knows Sora would let him. He knows he could make Sora forget all about his video game in a matter of seconds. Instead, he keeps his desires to himself for the moment in favour of cataloguing every single one of Sora’s responses: his shining eyes as he starts a new race, the way he braces his core muscles as if he himself is in that candy race car on his screen. The way he breathes through his nose, just a little bit faster than usual.

Riku waits for it, the tongue between Sora’s lips, sweeping side to side in a fast rhythm. He doesn’t have to wait long, it happens only a few moments into his race. Riku watches him, knows the exact moment Sora knows he’s going to lose again when his tongue flattens against his upper lip and he starts pouting again. 

Is this happiness? Knowing another person like no one else does? Knowing _Sora_ the way no one else does? 

To Riku, there’s no doubt that it is. A quiet, peaceful happiness that’s fulfilling beyond swinging a keyblade or passing the Mark of Mastery. It’s better than the rush of magic from his core to the tip of his fingers, and quieter than their joined heartbeats at night, in the dark, when they’re curled up together. If he could spend the rest of his life having this and only this, Riku knows his life would be complete.

With a groan, Sora throws up his hands above his head, glaring at the ceiling.

Riku can’t hold back his chuckle.

“This race is _impossible_!” Sora complains. “There’s this stretch where you have like a million corners and they’re so fast, I don’t think anyone could clear it.”

Riku can’t help it, his smile grows fonder and softer, and when Sora turns that intense glare on _him_ , his breath catches in his throat. Sora’s eyes are full of molten lava, and Riku knows it’s frustration, but it makes his heart dart across his chest into his throat anyway. He lets himself reach out now, fingers gentle and soothing against Sora’s neck and jaw, and some of the frustration bleeds out of Sora like water runs from between a pair of cupped hands. When he exhales, it’s a long sigh that makes his body tremble.

“I give up,” Sora whines.

“We could do something else,” Riku says, his voice too eager and too fond.

Sora perks up immediately, video game already forgotten. It’s another thing Riku loves about Sora, how he can bounce between emotions instantly, seamlessly. Sora is like the ocean, ever changing, always in motion. You blink, and the wave breaks, or the sunlight catches the water _just so_ the next second.

Sora’s fingers weave into Riku’s hair, pulling him closer, and Riku lowers himself and stretches out next to Sora. Sora turns onto his side, so they’re facing each other, smiling at each other until their cheeks hurt.

Riku feels his eyes prickle, and his gaze goes a little cloudy.

Who would have ever thought that Sora would feel the same. That Sora, always bright and always moving, always strong and beautiful and selfless, would fall in love with him, too.

He kisses Sora.

Kissing Sora has been a study in and of itself, one Riku knows he will want to carry out for the rest of his life, analysing and learning and improving every time.

Right away, Sora goes soft against him. Riku can feel the heat of his skin through two pairs of sleep pants, revels in how Sora’s lips are so warm and tender against his. His arms go around Sora’s waist, across the worn material of his hoodie, tugging them together so their chests touch when they inhale.

Their kisses linger, comforting and gentle. One of the many things Riku has learned from Sora is to follow his heart, to let it guide him to the things he wants most. It makes kissing a wonderful, unpredictable exploration every time. Something warm surges in his chest when the kisses grow deeper, when Sora’s hands slide through his hair to cling and tug a little. When Sora’s breath comes a little faster, matching Riku’s, his tongue against Riku’s bottom lip; a little shy, even after all these months.

Sora tastes like lemon sorbet and mint, and his mouth is so, so warm against Riku’s. His bangs tickle against Riku’s cheeks, soft and a little dishevelled from all the times he’d twisted his head in triumph or frustration over his racing game.

When Sora lets out a little moan, shivers dance up and down Riku’s spine. When Sora presses closer, until Riku can barely tell where his body ends and Sora’s begins, Riku hums, his chest overflowing with joy and longing.

And when they eventually pull apart, it’s barely an inch, breathing each other’s air as their eyes flutter open only enough to look at each other’s smile.

Everything about them is comfortable. Sora slots into the spaces against Riku’s body as if they were made to fit together like this. Their lips find each other effortlessly every time, whether it’s soft and soothing, or deep and hungry. Riku sleeps best when Sora is draped over his chest like a blanket, his face buried in Riku’s neck. At first Riku worried it might not be a comfortable position for Sora, but Sora insists he’s never slept better.

Things are easy like that. Riku knows every day how blessed he is to have this, to have Sora. Whatever would come, whatever would happen, forever, he would choose this. Over and over, he would choose Sora, and having Sora choose him _back_ gives him happiness like no other.

He presses moist lips to Sora’s nose, to his cheek, his temple, his forehead. His fingers slip underneath the hoodie, finding Sora’s sides until Sora is giggling and squirming in his arms, gasping for breath and begging for mercy.

“Riku, ahhhh, stop, stop, ahh, ahh, you win!”

And Riku kisses his lips again, feeling like his chest is being lit up from the inside, and he thinks, _yes, I win_.

**Author's Note:**

> Please come talk to me about Sora and Riku on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/fortheloveinyou) :D


End file.
